


Clara in Wonderland

by GothicWolf03



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen, Hilarious, Mrs. Tinkles is back, clara is awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5416634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicWolf03/pseuds/GothicWolf03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Ned was reading to Clara the original Alice in Wonderland story, the little brunette dozed off and managed to be trapped inside her own Wonderland! Follow the young O’Dea girl as she meets her friends throughout the strange world, and tries to escape back home before the King of Hearts could capture her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I'm so excited! I've been getting trigger happy in posting this story--had it for over a month on my draft--and now I finally can! This is for you StupidLegit, thanks for letting me borrow your OC, and happy birthday bestie! :D
> 
> This fic will mainly star our very own Clara O'Dea, the adorable little London girl from Syndicate. And Mrs. Tinkles is back too XD
> 
> As sad as I have to say this, I will be on a short hiatus break--just for a few days, no worries. I will be taking my midterms and I need all the time to crash and power-up my brain, but I will be reviewing your comments here and there.
> 
> I'll see you guys on December 19th! I also can't wait to hear your requests as well X'D
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

“Tell me again why we are at the park?”

It was an exceptionally beautiful afternoon; the sun was shining in the barren blue sky, and kids chased each other in glee. The smaller birds bathed in the pond, cooling off their feathers while the adults sat on benches with a book in hand.

Clara played with her braids, playfully bringing them over her face to make a long moustache. She looked over to the male thief. “I was bored. It’s not fun being alone in the tavern without Jacob and Evie.”

Ned smugly smirked. “Oh, and I’m no fun?”

“I didn’t say that.” Clara shot up from the green grass, peering closer to Ned as he nonchalantly flipped through a miniscule book. “What is that?”

“A book.” He showed the title to the young barmaid as she squinted, mentally reading ‘ _Alice in Wonderland’_. “Have you read it?”

The little cockney girl groaned, crossing her arms over her chest. She reached for Mrs. Tinkles, stroking the cat’s soft orange fur while the creature comfortably purred in her arms. “Thousands of times. My tutor always brings that book with her whenever she visits. It’s quite annoying, really.”

The older man ignored her, opening to the first page as he softly read, _“Alice was beginning to get tired of her sister on the riverbank with nothing to do . . .”_

 _Uh, not again_. Clara slumped against the bark of the tree, sighing as she stared off into the sky while Ned droned on and on next to her. _I’m tired of hearing this._

As much as Clara wanted to enjoy the book, hearing the words invade her mind over and over again made the whole story seem dull. She can’t remember how many times her tutor would make her re-read that first line just because she didn’t put enough enthusiasm into reading the story, thus she would spend hours on only the first chapter. The brunette cursed her tutor for ruining one of her most cherished childhood stories.

She gave a small yawn, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand. Her eyes started to droop; she tried to politely listen to Ned’s voice, sensing the young man getting into the chapters, but late nights at the tavern prevented her from getting a good night’s rest. Without another sound, the little barmaid fell asleep, her head lolling to the side while her hand protectively cuddled Mrs. Tinkles closer to her limp body.

Clara smiled in her sleep, imagining the children in Babylon Alley all cheering for her valiant efforts in saving them; they would carry her on their shoulders and clap loudly in the alleyway. She would brightly smile at them, giving a short speech and congratulating every one of them for finally freeing London’s children from the laborious turmoil of the factories.

In the middle of her deep sleep, she felt a small scratch on her arm. Clara lightly frowned, pushing the source away as she tried focusing on her dream. It wasn’t until the strange object jumped on her face did Clara instantly wake up, her vision blocked by Mrs. Tinkles’ belly.

“Mmph,” she said, taking the fat cat off of her face before looking at the creature’s yellow eyes. “Just what were you doing up there?”

The cat meowed, licking her button nose as she giggled.

“Well, you ruined my perfectly good sleep. Hope you’re happy.” The young girl frowned, not seeing Ned next to her. Panicking, she stood up from her spot after setting the cat down on the ground, scanning the empty park for her friend. “Ned!”

_Hm, where is everybody?_

The flowers brushed against her legs, and Clara blinked when she glanced down at the white high-knee stockings and black slippers. Her usual green dress wasn’t on her, instead she now wore a vibrant blue dress with a white apron tied from the back.

Her fingers weaved through the fabric, inspecting the dress as if it was magical. “Where did this come from?” she asked.

“Oh no, I’m late! Oh dear, the king will have my head!”

Clara curiously glanced over to the side where the small bridge was, noting the familiar voice of Waylon. She observed his anxious expression, taking in the knee-length shorts and sophisticated vest clothed over his cotton shirt, and he seemed to be observing a very large, gold pocket watch in his hands.

Only when her brown eyes roamed over the white bunny ears protruding from his chestnut hair did Clara gasp. How was it possible for him to have _bunny ears_? And they looked so real!

“Waylon!” Clara shouted, waving her arms over her head.

The young boy peered back to where his name was called, a faint blush sporting over his face before shaking his head and _hopping_ away.

Well, she hadn’t expected _that_ to happen.

“Wait, come back!” The brunette dashed across the bridge, the slippers making it uncomfortable to run. “C’mon, Mrs. Tinkles. We need to follow him.”

The pair made it towards the meadow, surveying every area in sight for the young boy—bunny—or whatever he was. She peeked up into the trees, hoping to find him hiding from her in the branches, but huffed when she couldn’t find him. She checked the pond, carefully stepping over the rock path while she crossed over to the other side, a bright smile on her face when she saw a familiar figure hiding in the bushes.

“There he is!” she triumphantly called out, deliberately increasing in her steps as she pursued Waylon.

The brown-haired boy fearfully looked back at her, scurrying closer to the large oak tree. “Please, stop following me! I simply must get to the king’s castle, or else he’ll have my head!”

“Wait, no!” Her fingers failed to grasp onto the back of his shirt, the bunny boy already diving into the narrow rabbit hole.

Clara gazed into the dark hole, gulping at the small space leading into the unknown, the same space where her friend ventured in. She felt her cat brush up against her hip in comfort; her hands took Mrs. Tinkles close to her body before stepping closer to the darkness.

She took a deep breath, meeting her cat’s eyes. “We should keep moving, see where he ended up.”

The cat only gave its confirmation by meowing.

“Right . . .” The brunette squeezed herself into the hole, glad to see that her small body managed to pass through.

She crawled on her hands and knees, uncomfortably crouching deep within the hearth of the tree. She huffed away at the stray lock of her hair in front of her face, biting her lip in anticipation when her hands felt the ground beneath getting colder the more she crawled towards the back, and she was thankful that Mrs. Tinkle’s warm body was close to hers.

_Wait, why does it feel like there’s a draft?_

“Woah!”

Her hand reached for nothing, and when she reached too far, her whole weight drew her over the ledge, making her body pummel into the darkness, with Mrs. Tinkles leaping in after her.

Clara screamed all the way down, hands trying to grasp onto anything, but everywhere she tried grabbing a hold of something she felt only air. Were the walls getting bigger?

“Mrs. Tinkles!” She easily caught the free-falling orange fur-ball, holding the female creature tight against her body while trying to keep her dress from flying up her face.

_My, sure is a long fall._

Already ceasing her screams, Clara let the air flow around her as she was still falling into . . . whatever she was falling into . . . she still couldn’t figure that one out. However, something pointy jabbed at her elbow, making Clara wince and rub at the sore spot where she got it, but she couldn't see what had hit her. Suddenly there was light, and the young cockney girl could finally distinguish her surroundings in the fluorescent lighting that changed color every now and then.

“Are those  _furniture_?”

Her eyes hypnotically followed the movement of the pendulum, cringing from the loud gong emitting from the grandfather clock. Stacks of books piled high like towers, each pile leaning towards the opposite direction from the others.

“Oof!” Her back was pulled backward, and her hands grasped onto the handles of a floating chair while Mrs. Tinkles hopped over her neck, the cat cautiously looking down at the bottom. “Well, that was unexpected.”

While she magically floated to the bottom with Mrs. Tinkles, the young barmaid noticed that everything started to appear upside-down. The paintings on the walls were in the wrong angle, making the frowning faces look like happy smiles, and the lamps were even faced incorrectly. She squinted from the blaring light when it changed to a bright orange glow, making her lean too far back in her rocking chair as she fell. She gasped from the sudden fall, hands trying to calm the screeching cat. “Not again!”

In the dim light, she horrifically watched the tiled ground became clearer and clearer to her, screeching as the young girl shut her eyes. However, her leg was caught on the metal rung of the vintage chandelier, causing Clara to absentmindedly release the cat, who pounced onto the ground.

“Uh . . .” she put a hand to her face, snapping her eyes open at the black and white floor in front of her, and Mrs. Tinkles’ upside down face. “I’m alive.”

Clara carefully detached her leg from the chandelier, sighing in relief when her hands met the floor. Mrs. Tinkles bounded over to its owner, worriedly nudging her head.

“I’m fine,” Clara reassured her, dusting her dress as she got up. She curiously saw where the floor led to, slowly walking over the path with her cat following close beside her. “Let’s see where this leads too.”


	2. Eat Me, Drink Me; Let's Have a Jolly Caucus Race

Clara felt like she was walking for ages, the soles of her feet were beginning to blister from the long walk. She couldn’t tell how long she had been stuck down there—there was no clock to tell the time.

Her stomach grumbled loudly, echoing throughout the silent corridor. She groaned, holding her arm over her stomach to prevent its growl from bothering her tired mind. “I know you’re hungry,” she muttered to herself. “But there isn’t any food around here, whatever here is.”

Her stomach only grumbled louder, not listening to the girl’s reassurance.

At the far end of the corridor, where the walls converged, was a long ebony door. Her fears abruptly vanished from her thoughts, the idea of finally escaping from the never-ending hallway made the cockney girl squeal with delight.

 _And I thought this would never end_ , she thought, turning the knob as the door heavily groaned throughout the square room.

No one occupied the cozy room decorated with a rosy pink wallpaper and plush furniture. A couch was furnished on the far side of the room, with a fireplace just across from it, and not a living soul was in sight. She cautiously entered with her cat loyally sticking by her side, gasping when the door slammed shut with a violent force.

“Wait!” Clara gritted her teeth, futilely jiggling the locked doorknob between her fingers.

“Oh, you won’t be able to go through there, dearie.”

Clara spun around, chocolate eyes trying to locate the source of the tired voice. She inspected the cushions of the sofa, not caring for the untidiness of the room as the pillows were all over the place, and then she checked under the fireplace. “Who said that?”

“Down here.”

The young barmaid crouched on the floor, careful not to step over her dress while she squarely locked eyes with a small door that even her cat couldn't fit through, a talking golden doorknob visible to her eyes. She commented, “How interesting . . . wait, you know how to get out of here?”

“Of course,” he tiredly replied, a prolonged yawn escaping from his parted lips. “Although, I haven’t had my afternoon nap, maybe you could come back another time . . .”

Clara shook her head. “No, I can’t! I’m looking for my friend. Did he happen to come by? He’s around my age, has brown hair with bunny ears.”

“Hm? Oh, you mean the White Rabbit?”

“White—” She paused in mid-thought, realization dawning onto the teenager. _Oh no, I’m in Wonderland. Then that means that I must be Alice. That explains the dress_.

If Waylon was the White Rabbit, how many other people were involved in this? She concluded that all of this had to be some horrid dream because Waylon hadn’t recognized her, and it’s unlikely that her friends would make her worry to death by playing a cruel trick on her like this. She imagined her real-self back in London, with Ned still reading the book to her while she continued her nap underneath the shady tree.

 _How does the book go, again?_ Now she wished she had listened to her lessons; in a time like this, she wouldn’t mind if her tutor magically appeared and assisted her in her journey. All Clara can remember were the characters to the story, but what actually happened to each one she hadn’t the foggiest notion.

Clara kindly smiled at the doorknob. “Mr. Doorknob, I would appreciate it if you could help me pass through.”

The doorknob scoffed. “My dear, you are too big to enter through here. Why don’t you try eating the treats on the table?”

“Treats?” she practically salivated from hearing the word, her stomach once again demanding for food, this time more persistent than ever. “But there are no—”

Glass shards materialized from thin air, sculpting and molding together until it outlined the entire oval shape of the surface of the table and then moved on to create the legs. A small ornate box landed on top, and the girl rapidly opened it, licking her lips from the delicious heart-shaped frosted cookies with the words ‘Eat Me’ etched in the centers.

“Now, now, you can’t go—”

It was too late; Clara hadn’t heard his cries as she stuffed her face with several cookies at one time. She groaned from the taste, consuming almost the entire box until she felt a tingling sensation coursing through her body.

Clara clutched her midsection, a panicked expression marring her face. “I don’t feel too goo-oooood!”

She screamed as her body grew, her limbs extending out to all sides of the tiny room until they were squished against the walls. Mrs. Tinkles screeched, retreating into the empty fireplace before her feet could hit her. Clara rubbed at the tiny bruise on her head when it collided with the ceiling, moving her feet and accidentally crushing the poor doorknob.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” she whined.

The object’s voice was muffled by her shoe, so she generously moved her giant foot out of the way. He breathed, wide eyes staring at her enormous form. “You can’t go eating all of the treats. Too much and you will grow into a giant!”

“I’ve noticed.” Clara uncomfortably rubbed her nose, lightly sneezing. “Is there a way for me to change back? Or maybe shrink even smaller?”

“Yes. Drink the bottle.”

On cue, a glass bottle popped into existence, filled with an unknown substance she couldn’t recognize, and on the side of the bottle was a small letter that instructed ‘Drink Me’.

“. . . Is it poisoned?” Clara asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No, I can assure you that it isn’t.” The doorknob yawned again, eyes starting to droop. “You might want to hurry. I am . . . getting . . . sleepy . . .”

_Well, this is a dream. Not like it can hurt me._

With that final thought, Clara downed the drink in one go, coughing from the powerful taste. Her body then started to down-size, shrinking down until her small body was the size of a toy soldier. She felt the floor beneath her black slippers quake, her body jostling up and down as her orange cat curiously leaned down, its huge face making Clara jump back in alarm. Mrs. Tinkles sadly mewled, head in her paws while her tongue lapped at the content that spilled onto the floor, immediately shrinking down to the same size as Clara.

“Mrs. Tinkles!” The brunette held her arms out, happily spinning her cat around. “Okay, Mr. Doorknob. If you don’t mind, we need to go through the other side.”

“Yes . . .” The golden doorknob opened his mouth, his jaw reaching the floor for her to reach.

The sound of waves lapping reached her ears, and she could see the murky water rise and fall everywhere. The sky was dark, clouds linking together as lightning flashed in the sky, and she couldn’t see any land for miles.

“Uh . . . you’re sure Waylon—I mean the White Rabbit—went through _here_?” she asked disbelievingly.

“Of course . . .” the doorknob impatiently replied. “Are you going to pass or not?”

“But I need a boat! I can’t swim through dangerous waters.”

The doorknob didn’t reply, his loud snore echoing throughout the room as the hole started getting smaller.

_Wait, I can just imagine one!_

She closed her eyes, willing to draw up a mental image of a boat with all her might, her eyes scrunching up when she exerted more concentration. In an instant, Clara opened her eyes, disappointed to discover that nothing had happened. _What am I doing wrong?_

“Come on lad, we’re almost there!”

Clara gawked at the fat bird sitting on top of a giant tortoise, the animals rowing due north while the waves wildly splashed around them. The girl carefully stepped over the doorknob’s lower lip, letting Mrs. Tinkles ride her back as she called out to the animals.

“Yoo-hoo!” She waved, though they couldn’t hear her. She huffed, yelping when she slipped and fell over into the ocean.

The young barmaid swam towards the surface, coughing out water while her arms propelled her body to stay afloat. Mrs. Tinkles clung closer to her, the cat trying to climb over her head to get out of the freezing ocean.

More animals weaved through the ocean, all of them merrily singing and putting their fins in the air. Clara quickly swam towards a dolphin, shouting for its attention while hanging on to its dorsal fin.

“Oh my! A human!” The dolphin exclaimed.

“I’m sorry for not asking permission, but my cat and I need to find land quickly. We’re chasing after a lost friend of ours.”

The dolphin nodded sympathetically. “Not to worry, dear. Hang on tight, land is just around the corner.”

“Where?” Clara questioned, not seeing the shoreline anywhere.

The creature didn’t answer her, instead diving into the ocean with Clara and Mrs. Tinkles in tow. The brunette rubbed her eyes to wipe off the salty water, hating the stinging sensation burning her eyes, but she saw that the dolphin had been right: land was only a few miles away!

_What did you expect, Clara? This is Wonderland . . ._

“What are they doing?” Clara asked, seeing all the animals dancing around a circle where a colorful bird in a green dress stood on top of a rock, trying to protect the fire from getting wet. “Wait, it can’t be—Mrs. Disraeli!?”

A huge wave knocked them overboard, sending Clara to crash onto the shore after she released her grip on the dolphin. When the wave receded, the cockney girl tried to hoist herself up, only to be trampled by the sea animals that went around the fire in one big circle.

“Hey—ow! I’m not—oomph!” She couldn’t even tell them to stop, her words getting cut off by their rude gestures and incessant singing.

_Forward, backward, inward, outward_

_Come and join the chase!_

_Nothing could be drier than a jolly caucus race_

_Backward, forward, outward, inward, bottom to the top_

_Never a beginning, there can never be a stop_

Another wave washed in, soaking everyone almost twenty feet under before drying up, yet the animals were still dancing. They hadn’t even minded that the large wave had tried to interrupt their ritual, the animals still dancing to their hearts content.

Clara groaned, almost slipping over her feet. If it wasn’t for the “hand” that held onto her arm, she would have slipped back onto the floor and get run over by the animals. She was startled by Mrs. Disraeli’s appearance, taking in the magenta feathers tipped with blue at the edges and the yellow beak where her mouth was supposed to be.

“My dear, you can’t get dry like that!” Mrs. Disraeli giggled, shoving the cockney girl to participate in the dance and hopping back onto the rock before Clara could talk with her, the elder woman singing along with the others.

_‘Round and ‘round and ‘round we go until forevermore_

_For once we were behind but now we find we are be-_

_Forward, backward, inward, outward_

_Come and join the chase!_

_Nothing could be drier than a jolly caucus race!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics to Caucus Race from Alice in Wonderland (1951)


	3. Waylon's House

Half an hour into the race, and Clara wanted to drop dead onto the sand.

Her feet had never hurt her more than this caucus race; she wouldn’t mind getting lost in the hallway again than endure any more pain from running around in circles. She started getting dizzy from all the spinning around, her eyes trying to focus on the dancing starfishes and birds. Her hands were currently held onto the fat bird’s waist, the same fat bird she had seen earlier, while a sea lion wobbled behind her with its slippery fins.

“Yes, that’s it fellas! You’re all magnificent!” The old bird lady clapped her hands enthusiastically. “You’ll be dry in no time. Keep going!”

 _Is she mental?_ Clara didn’t understand how they could be dry; at this rate, with the waves still plunging them underwater, she doubted they would ever be dry in ages!

During their dance, another wave blanketed everybody, and Clara couldn’t see through the thick water. As the water died down, she tightly held onto the pelican’s body, her legs locked around the creature's head while she attempted to stay upright, her body jumping high in the air as the creature ran around Mrs. Disraeli.

“I say, this is complete madness!” Clara cried out, scared to jump off from the moving creature.

Something had washed up on shore after the wave left, and she gasped as she saw Waylon’s damp hair cling to his forehead. The poor boy coughed up water, wringing the excess liquid out of his locks while wiping at his clogged bunny ears.

“Waylon!” she shouted.

The brown-haired boy glanced at his clock, shouting as the handle shifted over towards the eleven. “Oh no, I can’t be late!”

“Wait, Waylon! White Rabbit, please don’t go!” Clara jumped off the pelican, stepping to the side while the animals continued moving in circles. “Come back!”

Mrs. Disraeli confusedly stared at Clara, watching the young girl retreat within the woods with her orange cat. “Where are you going? Oh well, more time for us. Starting from the top, everybody!”

Running into the forest and away from the singing hoard, Clara jumped over the branches and fallen trunks. She couldn’t see Waylon’s white ears or bunny tail anywhere, and she was starting to worry that maybe she had lost sight of him like the first time.

“He’s . . . too far . . .” she panted, stopping to catch for breath. She never knew how fast this Waylon could run; the one in the real world, although fast, was no match for her speed. _Why did I have to make him run faster than me?_

“Oh dear, are we lost?” she murmured to herself, trying to recall the direction she came from. But it was futile; she couldn't listen to the singing animals from behind, nor see beyond the thick maze of tree trunks. She frowned, her fingers placed underneath her chin in contemplation.

Mrs. Tinkles strutted around the area, her golden eyes lingering on the smoke flying in the sky. She meowed, nudging Clara’s white stockings to get her attention.

“Hm?” Clara looked at her cat, watching the feline walk to the left side, finally spotting the smoke. “Oh! Good job, Mrs. Tinkles.”

The duo strolled deeper into the woods, getting closer and closer to the smoke. They eventually walked out into the open and onto the brick red path, making their way along the trail until they stopped in front of a wooden gate. Looming in front of them was a beautiful cottage house, the outer walls a beige color and the roof made entirely of straw. A small mailbox had the signature ‘White Rabbit’ etched on the side, and she deducted that this house belonged to Waylon.

“Who’d thought he could even own a house in the first place,” she commented, opening the small gate as she stepped into Waylon’s abode. “I wonder if he’s—”

“There you are!”

Clara spun around, a wide smile plastered on her face as she immediately embraced her friend, not caring for his semi-wet clothes that drenched her. “Waylon! I knew you’d come.”

The young bunny boy blushed from the intimate gesture, clearing his throat as he tried detaching himself from Clara. He jumped when her fingers caressed his bunny ears, a small giggle coming out of her mouth as she felt his smooth ears. His face grew redder. “M-Mary Ann, what are you doing?”

“Mary Ann?” The brunette shook her head, releasing his ears while trying to gaze into his eyes to see if he was joking with her. “What are you talking about? I’m—”

“I don’t have time for games, Mary Ann. I need my gloves, please fetch them for me,” he hurriedly responded, rushing her inside his home while nervously glancing at his clock, waiting outside by the porch with Mrs. Tinkles.

Clara blinked from the sudden action, grumbling as she climbed the stairs. “Well, that was rude.”

Entering the only bedroom in the house, the cockney girl rifled through the drawers of the crème vanity, humming in thought. She couldn’t find any gloves, only linen sheets and pillowcases. She closed the drawer and made her way down, confusedly holding up a small white casing she found from the middle drawer. She shrieked when she realized it was Waylon’s underwear, willing to rid the image from her mind as she noticed a box next to his undergarments.

“Maybe they’re in here.” Clara closed the drawer and placed the box on the vanity surface, opening it to find regular cookies inside. Clara didn’t want to make the mistake of growing into a giant like last time, yet these cookies didn’t have the words ‘Eat Me’ on them, so maybe they’re not magical?

“One cookie wouldn’t hurt.” The brunette ate the entire cookie, shoving another cookie into the pocket of her dress just in case if she got snackish, before searching the other side of the room, bending down to inspect the crack underneath the bed when she instantly felt her body start to grow. “Again!?”

Meanwhile, Waylon was tapping his feet against the cobblestone, his eyes refusing to avert from the giant watch in his hands. He was about to go inside the house and rush his maid, opening the door only to crash against a foot that extended out of the house, pushing him into the lawn.

“My god!” He stared in shock at the limbs coming out from the windows and walls, paling from the giant hands that opened the shutters in front, revealing big brown eyes. “AAAAHHH!”

“Waylon, are you there?” Clara didn’t see the young boy dash off down the path and into the woods, though she had heard his screams for help. The young girl stayed where she was, sighing when no one came back for her. Her fingers picked at the dirt underneath her, hitting the ground with her fists.

 _I just want to go home._ Clara was surprised that she hadn’t waken up yet; it felt like hours had passed since she followed Waylon down the rabbit hole. And whatever happened to Ned? Surely he must’ve noticed her snoozing off while he read, but why hadn’t he woken her up? Unless something bad happened to him . . .

“Monster, you say?”

Clara’s ears perked up, listening to Mrs. Disraeli’s familiar voice. Her brown eyes looked down form the open window, glad to see the bird lady walk towards the house with a cowering Waylon hiding behind her.

Waylon gulped. “Y-yes. I sent Mary Ann in there when suddenly a monster invaded my home.”

Clara huffed, angrily looking at Waylon. “My name is _Clara_! Not Mary Ann.”

Mrs. Disraeli heartily laughed, patting the rabbit’s head as she peered up at the giant girl stuck inside the house. “Not to worry, we will figure something out . . . Ah! If it isn’t Aleck the Dog!”

The male dog obliviously walked by the scene, carrying a ladder over his shoulder. He timidly smiled back at the bird woman who called his name, nodding towards the small boy hiding behind her. “Mrs. Disraeli, White Rabbit.”

The elder lady gestured for the Scottish dog man to join her, hand coming over his back. “My boy, can you help us with a predicament? We could use your ladder to climb up the chimney.”

“Not to worry, madam. I’d be happy to help.” Alexander placed the ladder by the wall, climbing each wrung while whistling on the way up, his tail wagging behind him.

“Oh, do be careful with the monster,” the woman added.

“Monster?” The Scottish dog man briefly looked inside the window at the pair of eyes fixated on him, making the male shriek in astonishment. He scrambled to the bottom, but was stopped by Disraeli’s firm hand to his chest.

“The chimney is up there, silly!” She was aloof to the man’s pleas, forcing him to climb up the ladder with a ditsy smile on her face. She set him on top of the straw roof, showing him the entrance to the chimney. “Well, down you go!”

The old woman had shoved the young man down with so much force that soot flowed inside the room, invading Clara’s nose. The barmaid sniffed, eyes watering as the dark particles infected the air. Clara opened her mouth, unintentionally inhaling the humid air clouding into her lungs. Mrs. Disraeli sensed the girl’s distress when she saw the house heave; taking the dress in her hand, she slid down the ladder and hid Waylon behind the stone wall, their heads peeking out of the top to watch the spectacle.

Finally not taking enough of smoke, Clara unleashed her loud sneeze, making the house shake while the smoke dispersed back into the chimney where a loud pop emerged from the top. The others down on the ground stared with wide eyes as Aleck was sent flying several hundred feet into the air, a trail of black dirt highlighting his path.

“Well . . . there goes Aleck,” Mrs. Disraeli sadly stated. “New plan: let’s burn the house down.”

“WHAT!?” Waylon shrieked, trying to stop the woman from getting closer to his most cherished house. "You simply can't! I was raised in there!"

“Oh no, no, no . . .” Clara tried formulating a plan, anything to prevent herself from being fried to a crisp by the madwoman. She looked out the side window, an idea forming in her mind when she inspected the carrot patches in the garden. “I wonder . . .”

Her large fingers touched the top of the carrot top, plucking a bunch of vegetables from the ground before holding them towards the open window. She took a quick bite out of the food, feeling her entire being shake as her limbs withdrew inside the house, breaking a few furniture in the process. “Yes!” She was finally back to her normal size, and she wasted no time in running down the stairs.

Waylon ran a hand through his tousled locks, shouting when the clock loudly rang at the final number. “I’m late!”

“Waylon, don’t leave without me!” Clara stopped to see Mrs. Disraeli blow at the broken furniture on the ground, the flames licking at the wooden splinters. She was about to question the woman’s antics when she realized that she had a mission to do, so the cockney girl left the older woman to her own devices while she and Mrs. Tinkles tried running after the hopping rabbit.


	4. Tea Party

“Ugh, I’m going to tie him down once I get my hands on him,” grumbled Clara as she walked down the narrow path in the dark woods.

While she was busy chasing down Waylon, she managed to lose herself in the ominous maze of trees once again, missing all the signs embedded on the tree barks. She shouldn’t have been so careless, she should have stopped and read the signs, but in the end she proved to be just as reckless as Jacob.

The orange cat crawled over to the tree, sniffing at the ground. Clara calmly brushed her anger aside, watching her cat pace around the spot. “Did you find anything, Mrs. Tinkles?”

The cat meowed, squatting down while glaring at Clara. The young barmaid didn’t understand why her beloved cat would hate her until her eyes widened, awkwardly turning around to let Mrs. Tinkles . . . . well, take a tinkle.

She busied her mind with memories of her friends, thinking about the Frye twins and even Henry, wondering what they were doing right now. She hoped to encounter them in this strange world—if she managed to meet Waylon and Mrs. Disraeli (or disfigured versions of them) then the others must be around here somewhere. She went through the list of characters in Wonderland, trying to label them with her friends and their personalities.

“Lost in thought?” a sly voice echoed through the air.

Clara frighteningly snapped to where the voice came from, not seeing anyone in sight. She couldn’t pinpoint the voice, the sound making an echo tone that she couldn’t match it to the voices of anyone she knew.

“Where are you?” she asked.

A pearly white smile flashed in the shadows above the trees, golden eyes observing the trembling girl in the blue dress. The shape started to form, dark purple and black streaks appearing as well as a black hat. Clara finally noticed the person—or weird animal person—take form. She gasped, seeing Ned’s grinning face underneath the dark hat. “Ned, where were you? And what are you supposed to be?”

The thief magically zapped down to her side; he gestured to his apparel, to the purple striped tailcoat down to the black pants that appeared right before her eyes. Cat ears even showed off from his hat, and a bushy striped tail swishing from side to side. “What do you think?”

Clara snapped her fingers, instantly distinguishing his character. “The Cheshire Cat!” She frowned in afterthought, encircling him from top to bottom. “Hang on, you’re not going to give me riddles, are you?”

One of the things she hated most about the book were the riddles the Cheshire Cat would give to Alice. It wasn’t hard telling someone where to go, so why go through all the trouble in concocting riddles and wasting time? And right now, Clara needed time to be in her favor so she could find Waylon.

Ned looked offended, playfully bringing a hand to his chest. “Clara, you’ve wounded me. It wouldn’t be good for my character if I didn’t give you any riddles. I’m the cat, and you’re Alice.”

“Oh . . .” Her eyes instantly lit up. “You know my name!”

“Yes . . .”

“Well, it’s just that my friends didn’t know who I was, so I assumed everyone here wouldn’t recognize me as well.”

“Really?” The thief lightly nodded in thought, mulling over this information. “Fascinating.”

“Nevermind. I need to go after the White Rabbit. Do you know where he might be?” she politely questioned.

The cat man shrugged, casually leaning against a tree. “I know a lot of things, but yet I don’t know a lot. If I were you, I’d dig deep into your mind and let the madness help you from there. Don’t be sane, but rather go insane.”

Clara blinked. “Madness?”

“That’s all I can give you for now. Good luck,” he gave her a wink before disintegrating in the shadows.

The brunette stomped her foot on the ground, trudging towards the last place she saw Ned disappear. “I don’t understand anything that goes on in this world.”

 _Hm, madness . . ._ Her eyes roamed her entire surroundings, seeing nothing that could be considered ‘mad’.

As if the world answered her call, a rickety sign nailed to the branch of the tree read ‘Mad Hatter’ in big, red capital letters—a few of the words were written backwards. She followed the edge of the sign to where the finger pointed at the right path of the split road.

“Mrs. Tinkles,” she called to her cat, the female creature bounding close to her as they trotted closer to the bright lights coming from within the darkness.

Clara stared in awe at the lantern lights that streamed around the gigantic, rectangular table. The chairs were tall and elegant, and teacups and saucers swarmed every spot on the table. From far away, she could see three people sipping from their teacups, chatting amongst themselves in hushed whispers.

“Clara?” one of them asked, a female, as she stood up. The cockney girl squealed in delight upon seeing Evie, dashing towards the older woman and embracing her in a tight bear hug.

“Evie, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you!” Clara stepped back, eyes instantly going towards Evie’s head, or rather what was on top of her head. “Can I touch them?”

“Um, okay.” Evie bent down, letting Clara lightly touch her light brown mouse ears. She chuckled from the tickling sensation before leading Clara by the hand to the table. The elder twin cleared her throat to gain the others’ attention. “Ahem, Henry, Jacob.”

The Indian man glanced up from his book, kindly nodding to the young girl who was in Alice’s costume. “Hello, Clara . . .” he noticed her brown eyes intently staring at his long rabbit ears, shaking his head knowingly. “Before you ask, no I’m not letting you feel them.”

“Aww . . .”

The tall man sitting in the center of the table glanced up from his 10/6 top hat, a wide grin gracing his chiseled features. “Clara, so glad you could make it! I see Ned has led you here.”

“Yeah.” She examined the clean teacups piled on top of one another, raising an eyebrow at the older male. “Are you having a tea party? Can I join you?”

Evie smiled. “Of course. Please, sit.”

Clara sat down on a soft, plush chair, patting her lap for Mrs. Tinkles to rest on. She stroked the cat’s fur, although she slowed her movements when she noticed Jacob’s eyes narrowing in her direction. “What?”

“You brought that _demon_ here?” he accusingly pointed at the vermin.

Mrs. Tinkles hissed back at him, which almost made Jacob run across the table, the male assassin having the urge to throw the hairball into the sky.

“Yes,” she answered, protectively shielding her cat. The cockney girl looked at his reddish-brown trench coat as he came near her with a teacup in hand. She even examined his pants, noticing the patchworks in different shades of brown, and then to the numbered card against his hat before thanking him for the tea. “Are you supposed to be the Mad Hatter?”

“Yep.”

“And you two,” she gestured towards Evie and Henry. “You’re the Dormouse, and he’s the March Hare? You all don’t look mad to me . . .”

Henry lightly smiled, flipping open his book. “Is that what Ned told you?”

Clara groaned, instead sipping her tea, with her pinkie out, before answering, “I don’t know what’s true and what’s not.”

The teenager noticed that Jacob was the only one not drinking out of the group, and she curiously wondered why. It’s not like he hated tea; he’d drink tea if there happened to be no alcohol available. “Jacob, you don’t like the tea?”

He only grumbled in annoyance.

Evie rolled her eyes, sipping from her own cup. “Don’t mind my brother. He’s just upset because the king punished him. He can’t consume alcohol for the rest of his life, so long as the king lives.”

Clara blinked. “Wow, what did he do?”

The elder twin was about to start, but her brother silenced her with his hazel eyes and instead wanted to inform their friend of his crimes. He sat up straighter, reaching inside his coat to pull out a gun, placing the weapon on the table. “. . . I was plotting his demise . . .”

“What!?”

“Oh c’mon, if you’ve met the man you’d understand why I plotted his death. Anyway, I planned on shooting him at one of his grand games that he hosts every year, but I was abandoned by my own henchmen to the knights.”

 _Knights?_ She had never heard of knights from the original story, and last time she recalled there was supposed to be a Queen of Hearts who condemned people to death, not the meek king. _Maybe my dream is deviating from the actual novel . . . that would explain so much why Jacob would have a gun on him . . ._

“I’m sorry, who are the knights?”

“Well, there are two knights: The White Knight of Clubs & The Black Knight of Spades,” Henry piped in, closing his book to tell Clara more about these mysterious knights that worked for the king. “The knights are in charge of the card soldiers. The White Knight is responsible for administering laws and giving sentences to people who don’t usually see eye-to-eye with the king. On the other hand, the Black Knight slaughters those who break these rules.”

Clara paled until her skin was ghost white. “I wouldn’t want to meet any of them, especially the Black Knight.”

The younger twin scoffed from the end of the table, feet planted on top of the tablecloth while his hands laid behind his head. “Please, she’s not all scary as she makes out to be . . .”

Evie shook her head, placing her head in the palm of her hand. “She nearly castrated you for trying to grope her.”

“I was drunk!” he heatedly protested.

His sister smirked beneath the lid of the cup. “One of the reasons why the king banned alcohol because you were under the influence. It makes you . . . unpredictable. Remember the time you openly insulted him in the courtroom, and the time you stabbed the guards, and—”

“Okay, the kid gets it!”

“I’m confused,” Clara remarked. “If the king knows that Jacob did all these things, why hasn’t he executed him yet?”

“Ah, but that’s what everyone wants to know about, isn’t it? I mean sure, he knows about everything that my sister mentioned, but he secretly loves to torture me. Banning my good ale is the worst punishment he could draw onto me rather than chopping off my gorgeous head, but he’s slowly cracking.”

The cockney girl shook her head in disbelief, smiling from Jacob’s funny accounts, putting two sugar cubes in her tea and letting them dissolve. While she waited, a thought had been disturbing her mind throughout the whole ordeal, but she didn’t know how to ask them.

“Evie . . . do you know what Waylon is up to? I’ve been following him all day, but he’s always in such a rush. He said that he was afraid he would be late, and that the king would have his head . . .”

The three adults knowingly looked at one another, trying to decide how they would gently break the news to the girl. Evie sighed, edging her seat closer to Clara. “Clara, Waylon is part of the king’s court. He’s the king’s messenger, and you know how crucial it is for the messenger to always be on time, and to always tell the king good news . . .”

 _Oh no._ She knew what the older woman was implying; the thought of Waylon’s head being chopped off sent a shiver down her spine. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Don’t worry, Clara. We wouldn’t let the king harm your friend,” Henry reassured her.

“Greenie is right,” Jacob placed his hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Tonight we will infiltrate his castle, and rescue our friend. You will be in charge in distracting the king, while we look for the White Rabbit.”

“Why me?”

“The king doesn’t know who you are, so he won’t know that you’re working for us,” Evie said, finishing her tea. “We should head out now.”

Jacob nodded, getting up from his spot and making sure to put away his weapon first before leaving. “And don’t forget, Clara: the king always wins. Whatever you do, you have to make sure you lose the game. Your friend’s life very well depends on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There needs to be a fanart on these characters as Alice in Wonderland characters. I'd die of happiness XD


	5. Flamingo Croquet

“Please sire, I didn’t mean to steal your cookies,” the old beggar beseeched, his body being dragged across the clean-cut lawn by the card soldiers.

“You should have thought of that BEFORE you devoured them!” Starrick yelled, his flushed face making the man cower. The king turned around to his other companions, shrugging his furry cape closer to his body, the gold jewels around his neck clinking together. “Well, let’s enjoy the rest of the game. Bring in the hedgehogs!”

Hiding behind the tall hedges decorated with red roses, Clara watched in amazement at the poised card soldiers supervising the event. Her eyes followed towards the two round objects on a violet pillow, one of them being an ocean blue while the other was pink. “What are they used for?”

“They’re the croquet balls,” Evie whispered behind her. The elder lady pointed towards the stack of brightly colored flamingos lined together inside a diamond decorated box. “And those are the sticks.”

“What?”

The small brunette sadly watched as King Starrick rudely grasped onto the flamingo’s legs, and then hit the flamingo on the ground without finesse. With one long sweep, the king swung the flamingo into the air, obviously missing the rolled up creature in front of him.

Clara and Evie giggled to themselves, but they stopped when the hedgehog rapidly rolled on its own and managed to pass through every hole made by the cards that were situated into arches.

“How is that even fair?” Clara protested.

“It’s not,” Evie agreed. “But that’s why the king always wins. The people don’t mind because they fear being executed.”

Everyone in the crowd loudly clapped, congratulating their exultant king. King Starrick peered from underneath his crown, which was obviously too big for his head, and gave an arrogant smile while waving back at his adoring fans.

Evie went on her knees, taking Clara’s shoulders gently. “Now, you know what to do, right?”

The cockney girl fervently nodded. “I’ll distract the king by joining in the game, which will give Jacob and Henry enough time to locate Waylon. And you, you’re going to steal the keys from the royal adviser. But wait, who will defeat the knights should they come?”

“Hopefully we don’t run into them, but knowing Jacob he might be careless and run into one of them, or both. Let’s just pray that we get lucky this time.”

“Okay. Wait!” The brunette couldn’t contain her wide smile; her fingers fondled the giant mouse ears, making Evie silently laugh from the soothing sensation. “For good luck.”

“Oh Clara.” Evie shook her head before disappearing behind the bushes.

Meanwhile, the king was getting ready to prepare for the next round when a figure dressed in an all-black armor approached him. The king raised his head, his hands still held onto the flamingo while he looked into the woman’s gunmetal blue eyes, the black spade mark shining on her neck. “How is our prisoner?”

The Black Knight stoically nodded, resting her spear on the ground in front of her. “He’s cooperating, but we need to feed him eventually.”

The king rolled his eyes. “Please, the rabbit can starve to death for all I care, it would make things so much easier.”

“But didn’t you want to bait the Hatter and his friends into coming, your majesty? What use is the boy to us dead than alive?” she reasoned, hoping he would comply with her reasoning.

“Hm, very well. I’ll let you feed the boy, since you’re so attached with the bothersome child.” He grabbed onto the metal armor of her arm, leaning close to her ear. “And make sure to dispose of any intruders. I want _him_ brought to me immediately should you find the lunatic.”

“Of course. As my majesty commands it,” she coolly replied, bowing down in salute before strutting away from the gardens, her coal cape trailing behind her.

Clara had overheard the conversation from afar, frowning at the king’s cruel statement about Waylon. At least there was someone like Charlotte to look after him, despite the tall woman being on the opposite side, though the little girl feared for Jacob’s safety.

_Now is my chance._

Starrick furrowed his eyebrows at the child strolling towards him, never having encountered the girl in the blue dress before, and he didn't take it kindly to outsiders who could possibly harm him. “Guards!”

“No wait, your majesty!” She breathed a sigh of relief when his hand halted his card soldiers from taking her away, continuing when he patiently waited for her to speak. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but I happened to admire your expertise and thought I should personally tell you in person. May I join you?”

The king, pleased to hear her praises, smiled. “Thank you, my dear. And who might you be?”

Clara curtsied. “Alice, your grace.”

“Well, Alice. Have you ever played croquet?”

“Oh, I simply love it.”

He nodded appreciatively, clapping his hands. The guards quickly positioned themselves on the playing grounds, and his servants obediently handed the pink hedgehog to Clara as well as the matching pink flamingo. “I warn you, I have never been beaten. Let the games begin!”

On the other side of the courtyard, Jacob and Henry were looking for their bunny friend in the dungeons, glancing inside the bar windows of the wooden doors. Almost every creature was locked up inside their respective cells, and each of them pleaded for the Hatter and March Hare to let them go.

Jacob backed away from a slimy hand that came out from the bar window, cringing when goo landed on his coat. “Dammit, not on my favorite coat!”

“Forget about it, we need to split up so we can cover more ground,” Henry suggested.

“Great idea, Greenie. I’ll go through here, you go the other way,” Jacob said, heading into the left corridor while the March Hare went the other direction.

As Jacob began walking down the corridor, he vaguely noticed that the air became foul, and he had to cover his nose from the awful odor. While walking by, he peered into a bar window showing the guillotine outside, a shudder crawling down his spine and his hand, on instinct, reached for his neck.  _Glad I’m not one of them._

The dungeon cell at the far end of the room was locked, and Jacob was relieved to see Waylon sitting on a pile of straw, chains locking on his wrists. “Waylon,” he called out.

The brown-haired boy confusedly looked towards the small space between him and the dungeons, a wide smile stretched across his boyish features. He swiftly moved towards the door, chains clinking across the stone floor. “Jacob!”

Jacob pulled onto the door, as if he had assumed it would break open from his strength. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of there. Evie went to get the keys.”

“Hurry, before the king comes!”

“Not a problem. Clara is busy with him at the moment, though we have to hurry.” The Mad Hatter suddenly had a thought, retracting his gun from his coat. He smiled in glee, pointing at the lock, not caring if Evie came through here with the keys or not. “Stand back, Waylon.”

“O-oh right.” He receded towards the far corner of the room, covering his bunny ears together to block the loud noise of firing bullets. Soon the door was busted open, and he felt the taller assassin futilely tugging on the chains.

“Dammit, why won’t they come off?” Jacob grunting, his gloved hands attempting to snap the iron chains in two. He noticed the small hole of the cuffs where it connected the chains, only small enough for the keys to fit through or even the pointed end of a dagger. “Wish I had a knife to pry it open . . .”

“Let me help you with that.”

The blade etched itself into the ground right next to Jacob’s hand, nicking his finger as the wound bleed out small trickles of blood. He saw Waylon huddling himself closer to the wall, whimpering as he shielded his face inside his vest. Jacob bit his lower lip, sensing the woman behind him shift closer to him.

“Huh . . . I hadn’t expected that,” he stated before he was hauled onto his feet.

 

_That cheater._

The cockney girl huffed in silence, pretending to praise the king for yet another great victory. She loathed how he always had an advantage over everyone; just because he’s royalty and extremely temperamental doesn’t mean people have to lose all the time to this sore loser. She also hated the fact that he had her best friend locked up somewhere in his castle, so Clara had no choice but to contain her anger and stupidly clap for his “victory”.

King Starrick soaked in on the glory, waving at everyone while grinning victoriously. He turned his attention to the other player. “It’s your turn, my dear.”

“Thank you.” Clara carefully placed the hedgehog in front of her feet, reluctantly stretching the vibrant flamingo. She eyed the round object in front of her, ready to swipe at the hedgehog when the flamingo suddenly drooped in front of her and laughed. “Hey!”

Everyone snickered amongst themselves; even Starrick laughed under his breath from the hilarity of it all.

Clara ignored their judgments, instead focusing her attention on the annoying flamingo that refused to help her. Her hands clasped over its beak to stop the maniac laugh, then she moved the animal onto the ground and used its head as a batting stick. Before she could strike, the flamingo stood up, causing the brunette to shriek as she was lifted off the ground by its body.

The laughter intensified, although Starrick was growing tired of her games, a frown itching onto his face.

“Enough is enough. I am _not_ getting executed, and neither is Waylon” she hissed. With that in mind, the barmaid brutally slammed the flamingo on the ground, not caring in the least about the animal’s feelings, and swiftly hit the hedgehog across the garden. She distastefully watched as every card moved out of the way, not letting the ball roll through their arches. One of them even laid flat on the ground, accepting the fact that he got ran over by a hedgehog for his king. The round was over when the small creature crashed into a rose tree, petals shaking onto the ground around the dizzy creature.

Starrick heartily chuckled, slapping Clara’s back. “My dear, that was simply terrible. Looks like I win again.”

 _That’s it, I’ve had it._ She angrily marched away from the crowd, who was pointing and laughing at her while she trudged past them. She reached for another hedgehog, this one purple, until a hand stopped her.

“Ned! What are you doing here? You can’t be seen.” She tried pushing the cat thief away, but he stayed rooted in place.

“Clara, don’t worry. They can’t see me anyway, not unless I want them to.”

“Are you going to help me?” she wearily asked, not sure of his true intentions.

He shrugged, gazing back at the haughty king socializing with his consorts. “Hm, if I recall, the others are rescuing your furry friend, although Jacob was caught.”

“What? By who?”

“The Black Knight went to visit Waylon, but imagine her surprise when she saw the Mad Hatter. Henry is also in the same predicament with the White Knight, who was doing rounds around the castle, and now both Jacob and Henry are to be taken to the royal adviser.”

“Oh no.” She sighed, sitting down on the ground. “What now? Our plan will be ruined . . .”

A wicked grin was plastered on the thief’s face, his eyes glinting in mischief. “Not exactly.”

She perked up, skeptically seeing Ned casually walk over to the king, who was about to start the round by going first. Her eyes widened in horror, screaming out ‘no’ when she saw Ned reach for the flamingo’s head.

“Stop!” Clara rushed to the scene, trying to stop Ned from doing anything foolish.

But the Cheshire Cat hadn’t listened to her, setting the flamingo inside the king’s trousers before stepping back. “You’ll thank me later,” he replied before disappearing from view.

Before Clara could even de-tangle the flamingo out of Starrick’s pants, the king swung hard, thinking he would hit the hedgehog in front of him. To everyone’s shock, they helplessly watched as their king tumbled onto the soil, his cape draping over his head and his pants down to his ankles, showing off his heart-pattern boxers.

“Oh god,” Clara paled.

She cowered back when Starrick pulled down his cape, eyes raging wildly she swore fire came out of them. The servants all tried to assist their fallen king, but he only pushed them aside and stormed over to her after he got up (and put his pants back on).

“You-you witch! How dare you assault your king!? OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

“No, I didn’t do it. I-it was the Cheshire Cat!” She yelled, her arms being dragged away by the card soldiers, no one listening to her pleas.

_Evie, hurry!_


	6. The Trial

“My lord, you should calm down,” Lucy cringed from the sudden crash against the wall, seeing the shards of the china plate crumble to the ground in one big pile.

“I WILL NOT CALM DOWN! I WAS ALMOST KILLED BY THAT GIRL!”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “You were not killed . . . mortally embarrassed is more like it . . .”

“Nevermind that!” He spat, pacing anxiously across the court room. “Have you gathered everyone?”

“Yes, my lord. The trial doesn’t start until noon.”

They both turned towards the sound of protest, their eyes roaming over the Black Knight and the White Knight entering with prisoners in hand. The king had forgotten his anger, all frustrations set aside as he took in the Hatter’s pitiful form being shoved onto his knees by the Black Knight, a satisfied grin on his face.

Charlotte calmly saluted her king, standing up erect and poised. “Your majesty, we managed to capture the intruders trying to release the White Rabbit.”

Jacob feigned innocence. “You can’t prove it.”

The female knight threw his gun in front of him while her palm let go of the bullets, the miniscule objects bouncing off the tiles. “Really?”

Starrick strode over to Jacob, chuckling darkly to himself. “Thank you, Charlotte. You and Gregory can wait over by the witness stands.”

The red-headed lady beside Starrick grinned over at Henry, her heels clicking in front of him while the knights protectively guarded the courtroom. “I’ve waited so long for this moment. It’s a shame that Ms. Frye couldn’t attend. I wouldn’t mind butchering her myself. Oh well, if you two are here, then she isn’t far behind.”

It was already high noon, and the courtroom was filled with every creature in the land. Each one of the animals had their own desk and writing board, and they patiently waited for the trial to commence as they talked animatedly to one another.

Starrick cleared his throat, cutting off their conversations. “We are gathered here today to witness the trial of Alice. She is convicted of attempted murder of your beloved king, and must therefore be punished! Bring out Alice and her friends.”

The card soldiers placed their chained friends in the front row, all of them struggling from their iron bonds. Clara was brought out after them, forced to enter the stand, which was guarded by a black card and a red card on either side.

Lucy stepped forward, her dark dress swishing over her feet. “Miss Alice, do you have anything to say to prove your innocence?”

“Yes,” Clara started, shifting in her spot. “I wanted to confess that I had nothing to do with the . . . incident that happened at the gardens. It was the Cheshire Cat’s doing, not mine. I tried stopping the cat.”

“Hm, the Cheshire Cat can’t be seen by those whom he doesn’t want to be seen by, can he?” She mulled over the fact before snapping her head towards the audience, who were diligently writing down everything. “Does anyone object?”

A scrawny woman immediately stood up when the king knowingly eyed her. “Yes. I saw Alice ruin the king’s shot because she was jealous of him winning—”

“What!? That’s absurd—”

“And so she pulled his trousers down!”

“OFF WITH HER HEAD!” Starrick unexpectantly shouted out, his voice echoing in the courtroom.

“Wait!” Lucy warned, her glare making the card soldiers step back in their spots while slowly withdrawing their spears. “Before we execute Alice, does anyone else have something to say?”

At this, Jacob uncomfortably raised his hand due to the iron bonds, though the elder lady tried her hardest to ignore him. Her pert nose examined the crowd, a delicate eyebrow raised when no one said anything.

“Anyone?” She frowned when the Mad Hatter kept raising his hand high, his incessant banging on the table causing a vein to pulse on her forehead. “Mr. Frye, do you have anything _relevant_ to say?”

“Actually, yes. This is complete rubbish; you’re going to execute a poor girl without letting her defend herself? Where are the witnesses?”

“Very well,” Lucy grumbled, snapping her fingers towards the crowd. “Mrs. Disraeli, you’re up.”

Once the bird lady was seated in the witness stand, the red-headed woman stalked around the stand, hands folded behind her back. “Mrs. Disraeli, what do you have to say about Alice?”

Mrs. Disraeli giggled, swatting her feathered hand onto Lucy’s arm. “Oh, Alice is such a lovely girl! She and I sang along to the caucus race, and it did help us get dry quickly . . .”

 _Sure it did._ Clara shook her head, placing her chin on top of her hand in boredom as Mrs. Disraeli continued her account.

“. . . But there was that time when she terrorized the White Rabbit’s house. Goodness, she turned into a giant and then sent Aleck flying high into the sky. If it weren’t for my idea of burning down the house, I don’t know what I would’ve done. Oh, what fun!”

Everyone in the crowd gasped, scribbling into their whiteboard every detail the magenta bird lady said to them.

Lucy nodded, seemingly pleased with herself. “Thank you, Mrs. Disraeli. Anyone else?”

The young barmaid shrunk further into the stand, hearing every witness talk bad about her and concocting various schemes of her trying to kill the king. She didn’t think things could get any worse, but seeing Starrick’s triumph smirk, she knew that she was done for after this whole trial was over.

After going through various witnesses, somehow Jacob was forced into the stand while Clara stood by the side, the card soldiers watching their every move.

“Mr. Frye, you have been convicted of countless crimes, all revolving around the king—”

“How the hell did I get here?” He replied incredulously, shackles clinking together. “Clara is the one at trial, not me!”

“Clara?”

Jacob quickly covered his mouth, guiltily looking back at Clara’s narrowed eyes. “Sorry . . .”

“I KNEW IT!” Starrick screamed. “LIAR, TREACHEROUS SNAKE!”

“Alright!” Lucy had enough of his violent outbursts, her head swelling from the pressure; even if she did love the way he had that murderous gleam in his gorgeous eyes, she couldn’t tolerate his childish behavior. “Bring in the first witness.”

The Black Knight silently took her seat on the witness stand, glowering at Jacob from where she sat with her arms crossed. Lucy had a wide smile on her face, knowing she would love to hear what the stoic woman had to say about the Hatter. “Ms. Charlotte, care to share anything about Mr. Frye? Has he ever offended you in any way?”

“He groped me the last time we met,” the raven-haired woman bluntly replied, sending a wave of hysteria within the crowd, and colorful insults were thrown his way.

Jacob cheekily smiled, winking at the woman. “Don’t deny that you like it. You love me.”

“I want to hurt you,” she coldly stated.

“I knew you liked it rough, love.”

After finishing with the first witness, as well as trying to shrug off the dark warrior that happened to have her hands strangling Jacob’s neck in a tight chokehold, Lucy now stood in front of the gangster, who was rubbing at the red marks on his neck. “Mr. Frye, on top of inappropriately touching our most valuable soldier, you have also insulted our king openly in public, shot over ten card soldiers, and—”

“Alright, alright. I know I’ve done some questionable things in the past, and some that I don’t think I should feel sorry for, but I’m a changed man!”

Lucy raised a delicate eyebrow. “Really? What were you doing here in the first place? I doubt it was just only to rescue your friend, was it also to murder our beloved king?”

“Well, beloved is pretty much an overstatement . . .” he muttered.

“KILL HIM! I WANT HIM HANGED, SLICED INTO PIECES, ANYTHING!”

 _This is ridiculous._ Clara couldn’t stand this stupid trial; everyone went against them no matter what they said, so why was this necessary? Her fingers played with the fabric of her white apron, watching between Jacob's and Starrick’s glaring contest. She stopped her ministrations when she felt a hard edge inside her pocket, and she gasped as she peered down at the cookie inside her apron.  _I forgot about that!_

She remembered the house fiasco and the cookie she ate in Waylon’s room; the young girl had completely forgotten that she had an extra cookie stashed away. _I could use this to my advantage. I’ll wait until the time is right._

The young barmaid was placed back onto the stand, and Jacob begrudgingly sat back in his chair.

“Moving on to our last witness: the White Rabbit.”

Waylon stood up from his spot after he heard his name, moving out of his chair proved difficult with the chains messily sprawled on the floor. He thanked the knights who helped him walk over to the stand, slightly tip-toeing to better see the king in front of him. “I just wanted to say that Alice—Clara—or whatever her name is, is the strangest girl I have ever met, but in a good way!” He quickly added, a small pink blush spreading across his nose. “She watches out for her loved ones, and I’m glad to be defending her. If she dies, I’ll happily go with her.”

Everyone in the crowd ‘awed’ from his confession, and even Charlotte had a soft smile on her face. Only Starrick and Lucy rolled their eyes from the lovey-dovey display.

“How sickening,” Lucy replied. “And now, we’ll let the jury decide on Clara’s fate.”

The cockney girl anxiously observed the hurried movements of their limbs scribbling on the whiteboard, and her heart stopped when they revealed their answers. The majority of them wrote guilty, with a few, including Mrs. Disraeli, calling her innocent. Her face fell, and she could only gulp at the card soldiers surrounding her. She heard her friends protest from behind, and powerful bangs erupted all around the courtroom.

Starrick rose from his chair, pointing at her. “SEIZE HER!”

The courtroom was sent into chaos, with the cards trying to grab Clara and the crowd forming a huge group to push against the cards. Lucy tried to weave her way through, barking orders at people until she felt someone shove her to the ground.

“Pft.” The red-head huffed at her stray lock, gasping when she couldn’t feel the set of keys on her. “Ms. Frye!”

“Where the hell were you?” Jacob cried out, grinning when he felt the clasps around his wrists come undone, rubbing at his wrists.

“Looking for Lucy. That woman moves around too much,” Evie grumbled, moving onto Waylon’s set of chains. “And, of course, you get caught. No surprise there.”

“It’s called being strategic,” he reasoned, ignoring her huff.

“Well, let’s gather everyone else and get out of here!”

King Starrick eyed the people escaping past the tumbling creatures, adjusting his crown on his head. “THEY’RE ESCAPING! Knights, go after them!”

Both knights nodded, gesturing for their soldiers to follow them through the crowd with their spears shoving the people aside. They were slowly gaining on them, and the knights knowingly eyed the cards by the entrances. The cards nodded, pointing their weapons up to prevent Clara and her gang from leaving. It worked, for the others backed away while the cards advanced on them like predators. Clara’s eyes widened, seeing the knights getting closer and closer. Her hands dug inside her dress, wiping the lint off of the cookie.

“Stand back, everyone!” she warned before consuming the entire treat in one bite.

“Clara!” Evie’s hands moved the others out of the way, and they all fell to the ground as the floor shook underneath them like an earthquake.

Soon everyone in the courtroom stopped their fighting and screamed, holding onto each other for support. Their eyes gaped at the giant form of Clara, paling when her limbs extended out towards the walls. Even Starrick stopped his annoying screams and fearfully watched the tall girl shadow everyone, sweat beading down his face.

“Dear god,” he whispered.

The entire room immediately fell silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, Starrick is so funny with his outbursts X'D


	7. Leaving Wonderland

No one made any sudden movements, afraid the girl giant would stomp over them with one step. The knights craned their heads high to peer at Clara, their arms protectively holding back the card soldiers. Waylon had his bunny ears shielding his eyes while Evie carefully took him away to safety.

Clara glared at the cowering king, Starrick screaming when she slowly walked towards him. She apologized to every creature she almost stepped on, trying to control her big legs. Bending down, she looked at Starrick trying to hide himself behind Lucy.

“P-p-please, leave us alone,” he whimpered.

“You’re a terrible king. Executing people for no good reason, just because they don’t agree to your terms.” Clara shoved Lucy aside, picking up the thrashing king between her fingers. “Hmm, I wonder if I should eat you, too . . .”

“NO!” He cried, hands clasped together in front of him. “I’M BEGGING YOU!”

“You will leave my friends alone?” She wasn’t at all convinced by his curt nod, so she dangled him over to where her tiny friends gawked at them. “Tell them you’re sorry.”

“I’M SORRY!”

“And you give Jacob his alcohol back,” she replied, smiling when the Mad Hatter grinned back at her.

“ _What_!?” Starrick fumed, steam rolling out of his ears. “I’d rather DIE than let that ruffian get away with it!”

The barmaid shrugged. “Okay.”

Everyone hoorayed when she was about to eat the king, her mouth opening and the tall man screaming at the top of his lungs.

“WAIT-WAIT! I changed my mind!” he stated.

Everyone dejectedly groaned when Clara set him back to where Lucy was, the royal adviser springing towards her king and checking for any injuries. The king kindly thanked his most trusted adviser, letting her hoist him back onto his feet. His narrowed eyes then glared right back at Clara, fists clenched beside him. “Anything else?” he spat back.

“Yes. I want you to start treating everyone with kindness from now on,” she started, not listening to the gasps of the crowd and not paying attention to her shrinking form. “No more executions, and no more cheating! You better—”

“Um, Clara—”

“Listen to my warnings, or else—”

“CLARA!” The gang all shouted at once, peering down at the normal-sized girl in front of them.

“Or else I’ll come after you,” she finished, triumphantly crossing her arms over her chest. She blinked when her cat pounced into her arms, licking at her cheeks. “Mrs. Tinkles, I’m a bit busy . . . wait . . .” She finally gazed into everyone’s worried faces, slowly looking down at her body to find that she was down to her original size, a sheepish smile crossing her freckled face. “Oops . . .”

Starrick gave the most sinister grin to the cockney girl, thanking God above for saving his life. “Well, well. Looks like the tables have turned. Any last words, my dear?”

She gulped, silently nodding her head while her feet moved back. “Just a few . . . RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!”

And in that moment when she uttered those words, the gang and everyone in the courtroom shrieked as they paraded the entrances, exiting the room in a disorderly fashion with the knights and card soldiers charging from behind.

Charlotte mounted her stallion once they reached the gardens, spear raised in front of her. “After them!”

One by one, the horses sprinted off across the rose gardens, trying to locate the convicts as their hooves padded the ground. Creatures were trampled over, some even jumping off to the side to avoid being squished onto the earth.

Clara heaved, her tiny legs running as fast as they can, and Mrs. Tinkles was wrapped around her neck, the orange cat hissing back at the soldiers. “We can’t outrun them!”

Waylon hopped on all four, getting close to the running girl. “What will we do?”

Bird legs were situated in front of Clara, and she gasped as Mrs. Disraeli flapped in the sky. The magenta bird smiled at the gang, gesturing towards her legs. “Hang on.”

“The heck!? How can you support all of us,” Jacob heaved, hands clutching his sides.

Mrs. Disraeli laughed. “This is Wonderland! Anything is possible.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Clara wasted no time in tightly grabbing onto Mrs. Disraeli’s legs, gesturing for Waylon to hold onto her own legs. The White Rabbit followed suit, and soon everyone was holding onto each other for dear life as Mrs. Disraeli lifted everyone off the ground with ease.

The White Knight had his eyes held over his face, his white armor glinting from the sun’s rays. “They’re escaping. We need more firepower.”

“Don’t worry, Gregory. We still have an ace up our sleeves.” Charlotte nodded towards the high towers, canons retracting from the stone walls. She then pointed towards the soldiers next to her. “You there, release the monster!”

Up in the sky, Clara peered down at everyone, seeing them struggle within their grasps. “Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine,” Henry yelled back through the roaring wind. “But we can’t hold on for long, we need to land soon.”

“Got it!” Clara softly touched the woman’s feathered tail, causing Mrs. Disraeli to briefly glance back at her. “Mrs. Disraeli, we need to land! Where are you taking us?”

“Towards the oak tree,” the elder lady squawked. “It’s the only way out of here! Just a couple of miles and we’ll be there in no time.”

_The oak tree?_

Clara had never seen the oak tree before; if she had known about its existence she would’ve left in the beginning, but then again, she wouldn’t have met all of her friends trapped inside this strange land—she still had doubts if this world was real or not, though nothing seemed to go her way, so it must be real.

Everyone screamed when booming shots were fired into the air, watching black ashes fall onto the ground. Clara glanced behind, trying to peer past all the white clouds, and paled when she saw canons aimed at them. “They’re firing at us!”

Beyond the deafening shots of the cannon balls exploding, a booming roar echoed in the sky, and everyone glanced behind them. They saw a gigantic red dragon with black wings, the creature’s yellow irises glowing brightly, and standing on the dragon’s back were the two knights.

“A _dragon_!?” Clara yelled in disbelief. “What’s next, a giant meteor?”

“It’s gaining on us!” Waylon cried out, covering his eyes from the intense stream of fire that fired only a few feet away from them, feeling his skin burn.

Evie looked down behind her, seeing Jacob eye the two people on top of the dragon. She fervently shook her head when his fingers slipped from her cape, her hand instantly shooting out to grab onto his arm. “Jacob, are you _mad_?”

“Yes I am, actually. We have to do something; she needs to get home.”

Evie shut her eyes, gritting her teeth as she glanced back at her friends one last time with a sad smile. “For Clara.”

“Evie, Jacob!” Henry could only stare in horror as the twins detached from him, watching them free fall in the air and land on top of the dragon. _Please stay safe . . ._

The knights held their breaths when the twins suddenly appeared right in front of them with their weapons, and Charlotte reached for her dark spear, expectantly glancing at Gregory. “Ready?”

“I’ll handle the older twin, you take on the Hatter,” he commented, readying his own spear.

“My pleasure.”

From above, Clara and the others glanced back at the twins struggling with the knights, dodging their every attacks and lunging for them. No one could out beat the other; all of them were evenly matched in their attacks. Clara noticed that they were beginning to descend, and she worriedly looked up at Mrs. Disraeli, the older woman panting like crazy. “Mrs. Disraeli!”

“Not to worry . . .” The bird lady huffed, straining her muscles to keep moving. “We’re here! Take this.”

Her claws retracted, and Clara immediately took the round object between her fingers. “Now is not the time for _candy_!”

“Throw it inside the dragon’s mouth,” she commanded, her wings aching.

 _Here goes nothing._ With a powerful swing, Clara threw the candy right when the dragon was about to spew fire, the large creature choking from the treat. In seconds, the dragon plummeted towards the ground, its skin eerily glowing, and it took the twins and the knights along with it. After the dragon was out of sight, Mrs. Disraeli collapsed onto the approaching ground, making Clara and the others disconnect from each other and tumble across the dirt.

The cockney girl fearfully looked at the vibrant light in the sky, the ground shaking beneath them for a few moments, and tears leaked down her face when the light instantly faded and an explosion followed in its wake.  _No . . ._

“C’mon, Clara. We need to keep moving!” Henry grasped her tiny hand and dragged her away from the scene.

They’ve walked the remainder of the journey, no one breaking the silence as they silently mourned for their fallen friends. Waylon’s bunny ears drooped, his small hand held onto Mrs. Disraeli’s feathered hand in comfort.

Clara sadly pouted while patting Mrs. Tinkles’ head, the cat softly meowing in her arms as they trekked through the forest. She had never imagined a life without the twins, the two always a constant reminder in her happy life. They protected her as if she was their little sister, always including her in everything and looking out for her. But now . . .

“We’re finally here,” Mrs. Disraeli sighed, rubbing her sore wings. She allowed Clara to walk in front of them, staying back with the others.

The small brunette lingered on the beautiful tree in front of her, flower petals cascading onto the ground, seeing the black hole that surely led back to London. _It’s just like the tree I followed Waylon in,_ she mentally said to herself. Glancing behind her, her eyebrows narrowed when no one came forward. “What’s wrong? We can go now.”

“Clara,” Henry stepped forward, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “We’re not allowed to leave.”

“What?”

“Exactly,” Waylon joined Henry, trying to avoid Clara’s wounded expression. “This is our world. It’s forbidden to cross, even if we wanted to.”

“How come no one told me!?” She sniffed, wiping her face with her apron. “It’s not fair! You’ll be killed by the king, and I can’t save you . . .”

The smaller boy smiled at her, gently hugging her close. “We don’t mind; we’d die for our friends. Now go, before they come.”

Clara nodded, abruptly kissing his cheek. She giggled from his bright face, hugging him one last time before embracing Henry and Mrs. Disraeli. Her arms held Mrs. Tinkles together, brown eyes widely roaming the entire tree in front of her. _Well, time to go home._

She took one step before she heard a shout, and she flew back from the impact of a sonic wave crashing against the tree.

Everyone jumped back from the impact, grunting in pain when they collided against one another. Clara groaned, head weakly getting up, and she cried out as the tree was consumed in fire. “NO!”

Horses pounded behind them, and King Starrick got down from his stallion, a canon gun in hand. He gave a satisfied smirk, giving the canon to one of the card soldiers and withdrawing a gun from his cloak. “It’s over, Clara. You will be stuck here forever.”

The White Rabbit boiled over; he angrily marched towards the center with a red face, hiding Clara’s form with his own from the gun. “What is your problem!? Why do you have to be such a bully? You’re nothing but a horrible man who kills people just to get what he wants. You don't deserve to be king.”

Starrick frowned, training his gun on him. “Boy, I should’ve done this a long time ago. You’re _really_ starting to annoy me.”

Waylon bravely brought his hands out into the open. “Do it.”

When the shot was fired, Clara screamed out Waylon’s name, seeing the bunny wince from the sound, thinking he was hit. But he still remained standing, and the bullet didn’t reach him as a silhouette in tattered clothes loomed over him just in time. Her red, puffy eyes watched the Black Knight clutch at her heart, looking straight into her light eyes full of regret before the warrior collapsed onto the ground without a sound.

_She saved him . . ._

The card soldiers all dropped their weapons and ran towards their leader, probing her sides to try and wake her up, but her body remained motionless. They all loudly sobbed, hands over their eyes as they mourned for their leader, some crashing against one another and wiping their drippy faces.

“What did you do!?” Waylon wept, hot tears pouring down his face while getting on his knees with clenched teeth. He shakily reached inside his vest, taking out the pocket watch and roughly threw it in front of the king's feet. “I hope you’re happy . . .”

“N-no, I didn’t mean . . . Wait, stay back!” Starrick screeched when the soldiers advanced on him with vengeful hatred in their eyes. “I SAID BACK!”

“Clara,” Mrs. Disraeli tugged at her sleeve, taking the sobbing girl towards the flaming tree and away from the violent outbursts. “You still have time before the tree falls.”

Clara tearfully nodded, blocking out Starrick’s girly screams. “Okay . . .”

The bird lady quickly hugged her, rubbing her brown hair. “It’s okay. This is Wonderland. You’ll see; everything will be alright.”

How can things be better? Jacob and Evie are gone, Charlotte is dead . . .Even if things were bleak, she didn’t want to argue with the older woman, trying to remain hopeful. And who knows? Maybe Mrs. Disraeli is right; this was Wonderland, and things might turn out okay once she returns home. Everything would be as it should be . . .

“Goodbye. And thank you.” Clara squeezed Mrs. Tinkles closer, sadly waving goodbye to her friends before entering through the small black hole in the tree, the flaming branch falling over the entrance behind her.

 

The cockney girl instantly shot up, placing a hand to her chest as she felt her cat jump up in shock. She blinked, taking in the green trees and large pond in front of her, as well as the big clock tower in the far distance. _I’m back . . ._

“Well, look who’s awake.”

Clara glanced over her shoulder, a wide smile gracing her childish features. She instantly hugged Ned, rolling them onto the grass while Mrs. Tinkles watched them with a tilted head. “NED!”

He chuckled, shrugging her off of him. “You slept through the entire story.”

“I did?” She blinked, not believing she had been dreaming all this time. “But it felt so real . . .” On instinct, she punched Ned’s shoulder, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouty child.

“Ow! What was that for?” He confusedly replied, rubbing over the sore area on his arm.

Clara ‘hmphed’. “That was for getting me into trouble with the King of Hearts, and for getting my friends killed.”

“I’m sorry?”

More people arrived at their spot, and Clara took a moment to wonder who they were. She had been imagining them in their Wonderland attires for so long that it nearly took her a few minutes to distinguish them. Nonetheless, she gathered them all in one group hug.

“I’m glad you’re all okay,” she genuinely said.

“Clara, everything alright?” Evie asked.

The brunette nodded, instantly letting go. “I just had a weird dream . . . everyone was a character from the Alice in Wonderland story—I was Alice. And then, I followed Waylon—you’re the White Rabbit—all the way to Wonderland—”

“Okay?” Waylon said, unsure of where she was going with this.

“Then I was suddenly doing the Caucus Race with Mrs. Disraeli, who was in fact a pretty bird hybrid, of sorts. After that, I accidentally destroyed your house, Waylon; so sorry for that. I then tried following you in the woods, and the Cheshire Cat—which is you Ned—had me meeting up with Jacob, Evie, and Henry—”

“Hang on, what was I like?” Jacob interrupted.

Clara giggled. “Same as always, though you were the Mad Hatter. Evie was a dormouse and Henry was the March Hare. Anyway, we all went to save Waylon under King Starrick’s rule—”

“Dammit, why does he get to be king?” Jacob grumbled, though he intently listened on.

The barmaid brushed him off. “Doesn’t matter. He was very cruel and kept executing people. I got in trouble thanks to Ned for making him think I pulled his pants down,” she stopped when everyone laughed at that part, envisioning a mad Starrick with his trousers up to his ankles. “I was put on trial—and I terribly lost—but then I turned big with a cookie . . . then I was small . . . and then we were running for our lives . . .”

Henry owlishly blinked. “Um . . . and then what happened?”

“Yeah, did we win?” Jacob inquired, arms on his knees.

“Well . . . you and Evie were probably dead,” she cringed from their shocked faces, seeing their mouths almost drop to the floor. “You two sacrificed yourselves to fight a dragon.”

Jacob laughed, putting his hands behind his back. “I’ll take it. At least I died a hero.”

“. . . Mrs. Disraeli actually slayed the dragon . . .”

His eyes bulged out of their sockets. “WHAT!? How was she better than me?”

“. . . She gave it exploding candy?”

The male assassin grumbled to himself, hitting his sister so that she could stop laughing at him. “Thanks for crushing my spirits . . .”

“Sorry,” Clara sheepishly smiled. “Oh, and then the king tried to stop all of us, but Charlotte took the bullet meant for Waylon, which made everyone finally rebel against the king."

The dark-haired woman silently raised her eyebrow, sensing everyone's eyes on her, though she only gave a reluctant shrug and waited for Clara to finish her story.

"And then the others helped me get home by going through the magical tree. The end!”

“That’s it?” Ned asked. “I expected more . . .”

She brightly smiled at them all, seeing them get up from their spots and head back towards the tavern while conversing with one another on the way about their Wonderland personas. Clara blinked at the hand that was stretched in front of her, letting Waylon hold her up.

“Ready to go home?” he asked.

Clara nodded. “Yeah.”

The little barmaid held tightly onto Mrs. Tinkles, the cat softly purring in her arms, and she gingerly took the brown-haired boy’s hand before they walked together in the sunset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, thanks for reading! Be sure to grab some birthday cake on your way out ;)


End file.
